Today’s guest post comes from Sonny Lemmons of Looking Through the Windshield. Thoughtful and sometimes sensitive, hilarious and intermittently inappropriate, Sonny feels like a long-lost brother to me. I think you’ll enjoy his story, even if you don’t envy it. 
–Tamara
(What’s up with all the guest posts around here lately?)
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It all starts when the day begins at 4:15 AM when a fussy toddler, who fought going to sleep the night before, decides that waking up and complaining about the lack of orange juice and Play-Doh in his room makes complete and utter sense. It continues when after 45 minutes, he falls back asleep, and you pass out from sheer exhaustion on his floor. It continues when an hour later, your back a tangle of knots and tension, you both wake up because he has managed to apparently empty five days’ worth of liquid into one overnight diaper, soaking both himself and his bed.
It continues when your spouse, who somehow managed to sleep through the crying, the stripping of the covers, and the toddler’s subsequent streaking through the house, wakes up an hour and a half later and asks if the coffee is ready yet. You already feel like you’ve had a full day’s worth of stress compacted into a handful of hours, and the look of incredulity in your eyes that you shoot as an icy response to an honest question speaks volumes about the attitude of your heart at the moment:
“You don’t know the day I’ve had.”
After the Great Cheerio Debacle of 2012 at the dining table, and after wrestling the aforementioned toddler (who, like the Hulk, apparently gets stronger the angrier he gets) into clothes which are questionably matchable, you take a few moments to yourself by taking a much-needed hot shower. It continues when the water temperature starts to become more and more tepid due to the dishwasher running at the same time as your shower. It continues when you step out of the shower only to realize you failed to grab a towel before heading into the bathroom. As you begin to get dressed, it continues as you realize you only have enough deodorant for one armpit.
It continues when, after replacing the socks and shoes your overly-zealous toddler had removed and hidden are discovered and back on his feet, you consider using a taser on him to get him into the damn car to go to the grocery store to restock the depleted pantry. It continues when the other patrons at this store look judgmentally on your parenting abilities because your child, based on his demeanor in the store, is apparently auditioning for a role in Where the Wild Things Are. It continues when the elderly woman behind you in the checkout line audibly huffs when it takes you an extra nine seconds to swipe your debit card because you’re busy trying to keep your child from sustaining a concussion after trying to dive out of the cart. The only repose you can manage, after squeezing your eyes shut and clenching a fist for a moment, is that you glower at her with as much disdain in your tired face as you can muster, and think:
“You don’t know the day I’ve had.”
It continues when your dog barks during the toddler’s afternoon nap, waking him up, cutting his nap time from the usual hour and a half down to 45 minutes.
It continues when you load the washing machine, only to discover that thanks to the load you’d washed this morning, you’re now out of detergent.
It continues when you are notified via email that the writing project you had invested months of energy and time in was being cancelled, but “thanks for your work anyway.”
It continues when you check your mail to discover an equal amount of bills and junk mail fliers.
It continues when the afternoon snack you prepare, which was “awesome” just two days ago, is now clearly a personal affront to the dignity of the toddler who refuses to touch it.
It continues when you fight back tears of frustration and exhaustion.
“You don’t know the day I’ve had.”
And yet.
It shifts when, on your way to the park to give your kid a chance to expend some energy and wear him the hell out so he’ll sleep tonight, you stop in at the local coffee shop. It shifts when a total stranger, for whatever reason, buys your drink for you. It shifts when you allow one act of random kindness to transpose in your heart and mind the thought which you have been allowing to rule over you:
“You don’t know the day I’ve had” becomes “You don’t know the day I’ve had.”
They might not have known.
But someone did. And He knew that free coffee might have just been enough. For you.
Just enough to get you to remember: The day ain’t over yet.
So get over yourself, get over your circumstances, and get on with the day you have ahead of you.
And don’t tell your wife about the taser idea.
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Sonny Lemmons (yes, that IS his real name) writes stuff. Stuff about life, faith, and the odd pop culture reference. Sometimes people read it– like THE MYTH OF MR. MOM from Portmanteau Press– but most of the time it’s like a strange form of solitary therapy.
Oh man, I cried at the end!! My weary mama heart felt the relief a gesture like that would bring! And the attitude check needed in my heart! Thanks for the laugh, and the lesson!
Thank YOU for reading – and yeah: that one free (yet much needed for the caffeine) latte lightened my heart, head, and spirit more then I could have thought possible. And it gave me a chance to pay it forward the next time I came to the shop.
Well done, Sonny. I needed that. Not that I am a sadistic jerk or anything but sometimes I need to hear someone else’s day sucked, too. But then, you snatch the rug out from under my dark visualization and camaraderie to remind me “the day ain’t over yet.” I’m glad it’s not over yet. Thanks.
BTW that taser thought WILL return during the teen years, fight it.
Spoiler: the taser thought NEVER. LEFT.
And the days that suck versus the days that don’t are WAY more in favor of the positive, but some days…some days…the tension almost overweighs the volume of days.
I made the career switch to stay-at-home dad in January, and this piece is frighteningly accurate. Thanks for the encouragement!
Welcome to the SAHD jungle. The support group meets on Thursdays. Over beer. Lots of beer.
But trust me: you can do this. All it takes is a lot of heart, and a lot of learning to just…let…go. And breathe. And refine some of the more colorful phrases you may be tempted to scream out.
We’re getting ready for our first child to arrive in July, and I’ll be staying home quite a bit with him. I’m picking up a stroller tomorrow after work. It seems that I may need to also check Craig’s List for a taser too… Just in case.
I met another guy who is a stay at home dad, and he remarked that he had no idea how much work it would end up being!
As all great artists* do, I am working on writing a faith-based book on parenting from the perspective of a father as the primary caregiver (stay-at-home/work-from-home) during the first years, ’cause there ain’t NOTHING like that on the market. And dads need to know what to expect during these first formative years – because we tend to miss a LOT, especially if we’re not with them all the time.
It’s a LOT of work, but it’s also the best job I have ever had. Hands down.
* = I am, of course, more a “minor doodler” than a “great artist.”
If my mom had had a taser…
I’d probably not be here today if MY mom had one…
Man,oh,man,amIgladIwork!
Some days, the siren call of the cubicle is a bit too tempting. But then, none of my coworkers ever laughed as beautifully as my kid does – so yeah, the SAHD job wins. Period.
Wow. An excellent reminder that attitude is everything in life. Thanks Sonny!
“What” you do is as important as the “why” and “how.”
…how did you never get that? Man. I was a crappy mentor.
This is the morning I had. Minus the free coffee. But I just felt a butterfly flap its wings. Thanks, Sonny.
It’s kind of amazing the number or mornings…days…that start off like this (o similar) and then…something changes. Shifts. And the gritted teeth turn into a smile. Maybe a quiet one, but a smile nonetheless.
Thanks for reading!
Love, love, love to hear from a SAHD! Wonderful retelling of a day all parents can relate to. The ending is not only a reminder to get over yourself and on with the day, but a reminder to give to others too. My kids are getting older now, so those type of days are different now. That said, my night ended with fighting my 12-year-old to get to bed early because even though it felt too early last night due to the time change, it would feel even earlier when morning came. Then she continued the fight the second she woke up, telling me she was too tired and being angry that I won’t let her stay home from school. Of course, now her hair is stupid, breakfast isn’t good, there’s nothing for lunch, and no one loves her. So thankful for school
.
I’ve found that no matter the age or gender of the kids, and no matter if it’s a stay at home mom or a stay at home dad – we all have these parenting touchstone moments that are more similar than different.
But I gotta admit – I love being a SAHD.
Sonny, this was a fantastic post! I can’t wait to have kids so I can learn from them as I teach them.
(I sound like an old man if you just read that straight through…)
Honestly, I never knew how IGNORANT that I was until I had a kid. I’ve learned more about myself, my faith, and the nutritional value of fast food restaurants in the last three years than in the previous [fill in the blank with an arbitrary numbers of decades].
Sometimes I feel isolated in my husband’s and my situation–where, right now, he stays at home with the children. You’ve brought such humanity to a reality many of us live. In making the role of parenting universal, you’ve really made my day seem better already because I know I’m not alone–and neither is my husband. Thank you, Sonny.
What I’ve learned – and what I am STILL continuing to learn – is that no one, no matter their gender or role as a stay at home parent, is alone. Ever.
We tend to find one another online, if nothing else.
Sonny, thanks so much for sharing this with us. You *know* I’ve been there. As my stay-at-home days dwindle and yours grow, I’m grateful for the gifts in the midst of the mess– thanks for this reminder.
Sonny, this is an amazing statement of truth. I spent the week cleaning up urine from my newborn son, while also caring for my wife postpartum. This was exactly the attitude check I needed today! Thanks so much.
I remember the recuperation period Ashley had after Kai was born – and how drained, worn-down, and just at the end of my everything I felt at times. And then, as with this, something or someone just…clicked with me. Might have been another cup of coffee, might have been a Post-It Note left on our door…not sure what it was, but I’m thankful that I could, in some small way, give YOU encouragement…and an attitude check…like I got and needed.
Wow! I thought I was alone with the whole taser idea (or at least a cattle prod). Glad I’m not. I have mentioned it to my wife, and she just rolls her eyes. She knows! She knows I would never do it. But wait til you have teens, Sonny–the you’ll know the real, sore temptation to use “motivational aids.”
Oh, I’d never actually use one…maybe a Super Soaker, but nothing that could cause permanent physical damage. God knows I’m gonna give this kid enough emotional baggage as it is; I don’t need to add hospital bills on top of therapy bills.
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Oh, I remember/resemble those days.